


Jazber Soulmate AU

by That_Nerd_Charlie



Category: OCs - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Homophobia, Soulmate AU, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Nerd_Charlie/pseuds/That_Nerd_Charlie
Summary: She was soon to be royalty.She was a simple orphan.Two girls, from two different worlds.Bound together by love.
Relationships: Jazz x Amber, Mary x Olivia





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just another soulmate au with Jazz and Amber

She was a child, hardly five years old when she asked her mother the stories passed on from soulmate to soulmate. The response disappointed her, for her father was not her mother’s soulmate. Marriage was assigned, a form of peace and union between two powerful families. It wasn’t, and will never be about love. For that is not the way of the Evergreens.

Amber Caroline Evergreen was upset. She wanted an answer to the countless questions she asked. She wanted an answer that proved her theory that true love did exist.

“Mother?” She was quiet at dinner, poking at a plate of potatoes. One of her favorite superfoods.

“Yes dear?” Her mother responded into her third glass of wine. She spoke with a shiver of coldness that Amber was used too. The fond name of ‘dear’ held no love. Nothing she ever said did. Amber was, after all, used to it.

“Do you have a soulmate Mother? What about you Father?” She looked up softly.

Her mother dabbed her lips with a napkin and set down her glass with disappointment.

Her father responded with less poise as he slammed his fork down. “Amber! We have told you countless times! We have told you again and again! Love does not exist. A soulmate is a cheap excuse to lure people into a false sense of security of hope and peace. Do you understand?”

Amber nodded glumly. “I understand. I apologize Father. May I be excused?”

“Very well.” Her father grunted as he returned to his food.

“Are you done Miss?” Her favorite maid asked, pulling out her chair. She had no name. Not to the family, not to herself. She was a pawn to those born richer than her, yet she had no regrets. 

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled, looking at the plump women with kind eyes. To her, she was not a maid. She was not the help. She was her own self. And more of a mother than her own. Amber had given her a pink ribbon when she was younger, the ribbon hiding in a new place every day within the black and white uniformed skirt. Between her and the child, it was a silent rebellion.

“May I escort you to your room?” She noticed the child’s uneasiness and held her hand. Another thing she did that her mother has yet to do.

Amber smiled and nodded. “Thank you Auntie.” She spoke softly, the maid not having a name she would willingly speak. But Amber felt she was her only family, giving her a title they would both pay for if anyone knew about. But no one ever did.

_________________________

“Are you going to bed? The sun is still above the hills. Quite lovely from this height.” She gazed out her window, Amber’s room high above the others. It was decorated with more pink ribbons, a shelf full to the brim of books the child read twice at least.

“I have no reason to stay awake Auntie. The questions I ask receive no response but the ones I fear most.” Amber sat on her canopy bed in a soft blue nightgown. Her curly brown hair was loosely braided by her side.

Her aunt smiled softly and sat down on the edge of her bed. “My dear, would you like my answer? It may not be that exciting told by an old hag like me.”

Amber gasped softly, the one moment her child-like wonder was allowed out as she scooted closer. 

She smiled and rolled her white sleeve, her arm dotted in blue hearts made in pen, but not on her skin. “There are many, many stories. My favorite one? It is the one I live. I’m washing dishes when I can’t help humming to a song I hardly know, the sense of pepper and exotic spices dancing on my tongue. Yet, I don’t recall eating anything of that taste...” She looked at the child, her lips curving into a smile.

Amber smiled. “So... you mean..?”

“Yes. I can taste what they taste. The emotions we feel are the same. I find myself enjoying and craving things I have yet to do. And then, a small mark appeared on my skin. At first, it was a time. 4:30 pm. It is small. It was nothing. But then it grew. From times to dates, then to reminders. _‘Take out the trash’_ _‘Feed the dog’_ and whatnot. But with those, the blue pen ink sent my heart soaring. I wrote my own notes too, in pink. One day..” She paused, pulling the other sleeve to show a smudged conversation.

Amber looked at it, then at her aunt. She nodded. Amber touched it gingerly.

“My life is bland. I am the help. I eat plain food, I have no animals. But there are two people allowing me to truly live. To truly love. You… And Olivia.”

“Olivia?” Amber whispered.

“Yes.” She whispered back. “She is beyond that gait. And one day? I will find her. And you? My dear, you will find yourself a soulmate too. You will dream of that one person who makes your life worth living. You will find smudges on your arm you have yet to make, and food you have yet to eat. So dream. Wish. Goodnight, my love.”

Amber was helped into bed, a kiss placed on her forehead, her head filled with visions of love and hope. And then, her world went dark as sleep found her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazz's POV

“Bakshi! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice rung out, loud and angry.

“Ma’am?” Jazzmin Bakshi responded, a child digging in the dirt with dark skin and fire red hair. “I’m gardening!” She grinned. The rush of love, the need to plant and create life from the soil was so overwhelming that Jazz grabbed a shovel and some apple seeds. 

Karen huffed. She was tall and slender, black hair dotted with grey from running an orphanage her mother left behind. She didn’t have a response for this orphan digging in the muck and mud for the small reason that she wanted to. It was an obvious sign of a soulmate, Jazz never wanted to garden. As little as Karen paid attention to their activities, she did know this. It was rare for a child to show signs of having a soulmate this early, but who was she to leave her with the incurable itch and crave. “Fine. Be inside by dinner.”

Jazz smiled and nodded, giving her signature two-finger salute.

Dinner came and she wasn’t hungry. For Jazz, dinner was already served. A three-course meal of honey roasted beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a homegrown salad with tomato-based basil dressing. The rich taste Jazz could feel told her the veggies were from her soulmate's garden. The sense of refined taste she adopted at age seven was too good to eat the mush that she and her fellow orphans were served daily. It wasn’t bad, but it was no soulmate food. 

Jazz needed to eat though. She snuck into town here and there, stealing some seeds and relied on the skill she didn’t have to help them grow. Apples sprouted, leaves grew. They didn’t taste as good as the redhead had hoped, but she was sure her soulmate appreciated it.

____________________________

“You think you’re better than us? Huh? Growin’ food like the stuff we eat is shit?” 

“Huh?” Jazz looked up, only to get kicked in the stomach. “Yo, what the fuck man?”

“You think you're better than us?” The boy repeated slowly, watching the girl get up and dust herself off. “Answer me!” He was strong but slow. A big body but a small mind. His honey blonde hair and spotted face seemed sweet until he opened his mouth to speak.

“Bug off, Rodney.” Jazz simply turned, picking an apple from the small tree she had grown.

Rodney grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. His teeth were yellow and crooked. 

Jazz just smiled calmly, the foul breath from her counterpart hurt more than the kick. “I don’t think I’m better. I’m gardening for my soulmate. They gave me the talent, they gave me the taste of refined food and I should return the favor.”

“Soulmates don’t exist.” He spat, speaking slow. Jazz made a point to wipe her face. "You're a stupid fucking idiot who still holds on to any shred of hope you can find."

“I beg to differ.” She smiled. That earned her another kick. Jazz fell to the ground.

“What’s so funny?” Rodney snapped, watching her giggle to herself filled him with anger. Why was she so happy?!

“They’ll get a kick out of this!” She laughed at her joke.

“Shut the fuck up! Why can’t you get this through your thick skull?! Soulmates don’t exist!” He socked her in the face, leaving a bruise.

Jazz didn’t fight back. She had no reason. She could have, breaking this kid in half like a pencil. But she held back, her soulmate definitely tasting the blood in her mouth. The metallic taste dancing on her lips, a poison she’d get in trouble having by the one person she didn’t know. A soulmate she shared would be disappointed if she struck back.

After a minute or two, Karen ran out with a few other kids and yelled. Jazz scampered away with only dish duty, being blamed for angering Rodney to the point of cuts on her face and stomach. Oh well, one thing she was good at was a high pain tolerance.

Rodney cursed her out, blaming her for all the trouble he caused as she was dragged away by his fellow orphans. Oh well. Oh well, indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

“Good morning, Miss.”

“Hm? Oh, good morning Auntie.” Amber sat up in bed, a smile on her face. She found yet another reason to be happy. It started with apples. She tasted them a lot. They tasted homegrown. Had she given that to her soulmate? Her Auntie agreed, with the taste she had given the stranger. The meals cooked by master chefs. But Amber liked the apples.

“Mark on your arm there, I see.” She pointed out the red ink on her inner arm. Amber smiled. Her aunt laid out a dress. Amber had done some digging with the other maids. Her name was Mary, but they both preferred Auntie. “Did you sleep well? Any dreams?”

Amber grinned. “Another flash of red and brown. And more apples.” She looked down to read the message, those too starting when she tasted the apples. After a while, she tasted blood too. Amber could do nothing but worry when a message appeared the next day in blue ink.

_ ‘Mon.-fri. - dish duty _

_ Sat.-sun. - trash duty _

_ Don’t talk w/ rodney _

_ Punish for being victim’ _

She spent the week wondering who Rodney was and why her soulmate was punished with chores for being hit. And why chores? Amber tasted more apples, and hummed to music she couldn’t hear.

At the week’s end, stood a list on her arm. 

_ ‘Go to town _

  * _Seeds_


  * Money


  * Check music store


  * Get ‘supplies’’



Amber studied the writing on her thigh, tracing a finger over the black ink. The messy letters bringing a smile to her face. As much as she hated it, she’d attempted to wash off the ink after the first message had appeared, but it remained for a solid 24 hours. Auntie understood, naturally, and picked out outfits that would best cover the markings of her lover. Amber had requested makeup from her mother and used the foundation to conceal the writing clothing couldn’t.

“Another? What does it say?” Auntie smiled and opened Amber’s wardrobe.

“It’s a list. For shopping, I think.” Amber replied. She gave the writing one last good look before hiding it from view. It broke her heart to cover it, but her parents wouldn’t take kindly to the messages.

“My, my. That kid sure keeps busy.” Auntie pulled out a yellow dress and black leggings.

“They go to town every weekend, usually to buy seeds and update their music collection. Occasionally they’d get supplies, for what I’m not sure.” Amber recalled. “They always make a list of their chores per week. It’s normally trash, but I’ve seen dishes and sweeping before.”

“Sounds like you have a little fixation, hm?” Auntie teased, a smile on her face as she handed Amber today’s outfit.

“Of course I do! They’re my  _ soulmate. _ ” Amber giggled and stepped behind her changing screen. 

“Right, right. I keep forgetting.” Auntie turned as instructed by her employers. It was a force of habit that she never dared to break. “And what was their name?”

“...” Amber hesitated, coming out from the screen with the dress on.

“You have yet to ask your soulmate's name?” Auntie raised an eyebrow.

“Well…”

“Oh, honey. Please tell me you started a conversation with them-”

“I don’t wanna bother them! What if they’re busy, what if they don’t like me..” Amber frowned and plopped down on the chair to her vanity, plopping her head on the counter.

“They’re your  _ soulmate _ , sweetheart. They already like you.” Auntie smiled, catching Amber’s eyes in the mirror. She stroked the girls long curls.

Amber pouted, and spoke softly. “What about you and Olivia?” 

“We have conversations every day.” Auntie started to braid her hair.

“What’s she like…?”

“She’s from England. A drummer in a band. She’s very good.” She paused, crouching down to Amber’s eye level, and held out a pen.

“You really think I should…?” Amber’s eyes widened.

The maid just smiled, pressing the pen into Amber’s hand. “Don’t get caught.”


End file.
